The Sweetest Sin
by helenoftroyxo
Summary: A HrD fic which has a longer summary I can't figure out how to condense.
1. Malfoy Manor

A/N: This is only the first chapter, and I know it's kind of boring. At the moment, I'm considering whether or not this story will be R-rated, so to be safe, that's what it will be for the moment. If in the future, I find that the fic doesn't need the high rating, I'll bring it down to PG-13. Anyway, here's the first chapter.

Hermione stared up at the huge mansion that loomed before her and gulped nervously. It was her first day working for this pureblood family, and she wasn't sure what to expect. Only a week ago, she'd sent in an application for a job, and the employment agency responded within 2 days with only the location of the house and the wages they paid. They hadn't even told her the surname of the family.

The mudblood employment agency, or MEA for short, was a huge organization that tracked down mudbloods and tagged them with a serial number. Finding them wasn't a particularly hard job; years ago, the entire population of muggles wiped out by Voldemort with a single curse. With only half-bloods and purebloods roaming the streets now, it wasn't exactly hard to distinguish who was who. When any witches or wizards called the MEA with an open job, they immediately looked up any random serial number and contacted the owner of the it. In this case, Hermione had been lucky enough to be chosen.

Sometimes, she didn't know what she preferred. Living her life as a piece of property that was continually being kept under surveillance, or living her life in poverty and spending her days on the dirty and unkept streets of what was referred to as "Mudblood Town"? Though neither of the choices sounded more enjoyable than the other, she had no choice now - the agency had already branded her with a number and taken away her wand. With no wand, she'd lost all her ability to do magic, as had the rest of the half-blood population.

Sighing, Hermione took one last look at her tattered attire before stepping up to the door and knocking. As she waited for someone to answer the door, she fiddled with a tear in her dirty t-shirt. _So much for making a good first impression_, she thought sadly. Of course, by now, she'd gotten used to having less-than-acceptable clothing; nevertheless, it still would have been nice to wear something that consisted of more fabric than holes for once.

At last, the heavy, iron door creaked open and the ancient face of the butler appeared. He glared at Hermione suspiciously, and asked in a cracked voice, "What do you want?"

"I'm the new...the new employee for this family," she replied nervously.

He nodded, and stepped aside. The door opened a few inches wider. Hermione squeezed through. Immediately, she gasped at the sight that greeted her eyes.

It was unlike anything she had seen, or at least could remember. The walls were made of beautiful, mosaic designs. Characters in an ancient language were painted on the black ceiling in silver paint, and the light which shone from the giant crystal chandelier than hung in the center of the wide hallway reflected off of them. Two marble staircases curved upwards to the left and right of Hermione, and at the far end of the corridor were two double doors with silver, serpent-shaped handles.

As she gazed around in wonder, she heard someone descending the stairs. Immediately snapping out of her amazement, she turned around and bowed her head respectfully. When she looked up again, she felt her blood run cold.

Pansy Malfoy, once known as Pansy Parkinson, stood at the foot of the stairs, one hand primly resting on the polished stair rail and the other at her hip. Her dirty blonde hair was piled up on her head, adding at least 6 inches to her height, and makeup was heavily applied to her pale face.

"That will do, Bingley," she said in a high-pitched voice as she approached the two of them.

The butler bowed deeply, then retreated to a shadowy corner behind Hermione. Now, the two women were left facing each other.

"So you're the mudblood they sent us," Pansy mused as she circled Hermione, inspecting every inch of her. "You look familiar..."

Hermione barely registered what Pansy was saying; her entire body felt numb - she was working for the Malfoys. The family name which she had hated more than anything back during her school days, back during the war. Pansy's husband, Draco, had been a childhood enemy of hers.. _Oh please, please, please don't recognize me_, she silently prayed as Pansy continued to examine her.

"You'll do," Pansy suddenly said sharply. "Of course, you'll have to be fitted for another wardrobe. Those -" she gave a sniff of disgust as she briefly glanced at Hermione's grimy articles of clothing "- _rags_ will have to be disposed off immediately."

"Yes ma'am," murmured Hermione. She was still trying to contain her dismay at having to work for the Malfoys. _Stop it,_ she silently scolded herself. _You're lucky enough to even have gotten a job. Poor Jeanne is still waiting..._ Forcing a smile onto her face, she asked, "When do I start?"

"Tomorrow. For now, go downstairs; your quarters have been arranged." Shooting one last disdainful look at Hermione's clothes, Pansy left in a cloud of expensive perfume.

"This way," croaked the butler immediately, roughly grabbing Hermione's arm and dragging her along after him as he made his way down the hallway. Near the end of it was a small, iron door; he opened this and led her down the staircase that appeared.

At the foot of the rotting, wooden staircase was a small, rectangular room. It was very unkept; old cobwebs had accumulated in the corners over time, and streaks of dirt ran across the stone floor. A simple bed lay in the center of the room, the sheets covered in a thick layer of dust. A tiny drawer sat against the far right wall, and a cracked mirror hung above it. It was obvious that no one had been in this room for a long period of time.

"I'm sleeping here?" exclaimed Hermione incredulously.

"Yes, and if you have a problem with it, I suggest you don't take it up with the master," sneered the old man. He gave a dry cackle, then left without another word.

Hermione now stood alone in the room. She carefully walked around, grimacing as grit and pebbles bit at the soles of her bare feet. "At least it's better than the previous one," she muttered, referring to the storage closet that had been her room in her last employer's house. "Yes, this place is definitely better than any I've stayed in before."

Sighing, she sat down heavily on the bed. She sneezed as clouds of dust immediately flew up to greet her. "Well maybe not that much better..."

As she lay down on the bed, Hermione closed her eyes. Another day, another job. _Merlin, this life sucks_, she thought. _Four years of this hell. Bloody mudblood control laws... I wonder how different things would have been if Voldemort hadn't won. Hah, actually, don't even consider that, Hermione. You might be killed for being too happy or something. Hey, maybe being entitled to a life of service to purebloods isn't so bad. I mean, not all of them are horrible. Just about 99 of them... Gah, but they're the MALFOYS. If Draco recognizes me I think I'll just die. Yeah, that's what I'll do. But no, you can't do that. Stop acting like a little wimp, Granger. Malfoy never got the better of you back in Hogwarts and you can't let him now._

These jumbled thoughts rolled around in her mind as she buried her face in the lumpy pillow. She tried not to cry; after all, she'd already done her share of crying over the past few years, and there weren't any more tears left in her. Eventually, she fell asleep out of pure exhaustion.

When Hermione woke up, the uneasy feeling of someone else being in the room came to her at once. Struggling into a sitting position, she nearly shrieked out loud when she saw a tall figure with pale blonde hair standing at the foot of her bed. Her heart pounded fiercely when she realized who it was - Draco Malfoy.

"So you're our new servant girl," he remarked as he raised an eyebrow at Hermione. His steely grey eyes ran back and forth across her body, and she resisted the urge to pull her thin covers over her. The way he was scrutinizing her made her feel as if she were lying naked before him.

"Yes," she replied stiffly.

His eyes widened slightly. "I recognize that voice..." he carefully said as his gaze intensified.

_Oh shit._

Draco suddenly laughed. "Granger? Is that you?"

She blushed fiercely and looked at the ground.

"Oh Merlin, this is good. Hermione Granger, Potter's little sex slave. I can't believe _you're_ the mudblood they got to work for us."

She angrily mumbled something under her breath.

"What's that?" He took a step closer to her.

She bit her lip and refused to say anything.

He took another step towards her. "You'll speak when you're spoken to, Granger," he stated.

Before she could stop to think, she shot back, "Oh yeah? What are you going to do about it?"

His eyes flashed dangerously, and suddenly, he slapped her hard on the cheek. On instinct, her hand flew up to where he had hit her. She turned her eyes to him in surprise.

"That's what I'm going to do about it," he answered calmly. "Now, let me lay down the rules in this household for you, since no one obviously has yet. One: My wife and I, along with our two children, are the only ones that live here, besides our butler and maids. As the lowest step on the priority ladder, you will obey orders from everyone else. Two: Let me remind you that you're only a dirty little mudblood in a house owned by me. Here, you have no rights nor privileges. You'll refer to me as master, and nothing less. Three: I specifically asked for the agency to find me someone of your age, meaning while you're here -" he now stood directly before her, and as he said these words, he placed a finger underneath her chin and tilted her face up to look him in the eye "- you will do anything and everything I request of you. Do you understand?"

Hermione was having a hard time breathing being so close to him. At last, she whispered, "Yes."

"That's what I thought," he replied in a cool voice, stepping back. "Pansy will have more appropriate clothing brought to you by tomorrow. In the meantime, you may wander around the manor, but you may not go up to the third floor. Be at dinner no later than 6 o'clock sharp."

With that, he left the room. The door slammed after him.

Hermione was left sitting on her bed, her entire body shaking from her encounter with Draco. She numbly touched her cheek where he had slapped her, and found to her surprise that she was bleeding. Standing up, she walked over to the mirror. Looking into it, she was shocked at the reflection that greeted her - the 20-year old witch that gazed back at her was barely recognizable. Her mane of tangled brown hair was matted and dirty, and her face was gaunt and pale from lack of food and sleep. Her large brown eyes seemed even larger due to her protruding cheek bones, and they held a disturbing haunted look.

"I won't call him master," she whispered to herself. "I refuse to."


	2. Observations

A/N: There's a rather graphic bit about rape somewhere in the middle of the chapter, and I'm sorry about it; after this chapter I'll tone it down a bit.

At exactly 6 o'clock, Hermione arrived at the dining room. As she entered the large, circular room, she saw Draco, Pansy, and two children seated at the long table.

Looking at the children, she couldn't help but smile - they were the spitting images of their parents. The boy, who appeared to be the older of the two, had his mother's dark blonde hair and startling blue eyes, and the little girl sitting across from him had Draco's straight, white-blonde hair and piercing grey eyes. At the moment, the two children were laughing and playfully throwing napkins at each other.

_What a change from their mother and father, _Hermione thought wryly as she diverted her gaze to Draco and Pansy. They both sat stiffly on opposite sides of the table, and looked like they were making every attempt to not look at each other.

When Hermione coughed lightly to alert the family of her presence, all of the noise stopped. The little boy looked over at Hermione with wide eyes, and whispered loudly to Pansy, "Mum, who's that?"

"That's our new servant girl, Tommy," Pansy replied with a smile at her son. Hermione noted to her surprise that her old enemy seemed to genuinely adore her kids, as opposed to Draco, who was completely ignoring all of his daughter's attempts to catch his attention. "Sit down," added Pansy to Hermione, waving carelessly at a seat at the far end of the table.

Hermione took a step forward, but Draco stopped her by holding up a hand. "No, the mudblood will sit on the ground."

"If you say so, love," responded Pansy, turning to help her daughter tie up her hair.

Cheeks burning, Hermione tried to decide what to do. _I can't just let him embarass me like that,_ one part of her mind argued. But as Draco began to stand up, she quickly sat down on the ground against the wall. The practical part of her had won over, once again.

Dinner passed by in silence. Hermione was made to sit on the ground and given scraps of food on a dirty plate. The entire time, she stared down at her food and refused to eat, even though her stomach was begging to be fed. _No, I won't give him the pleasure of seeing me eat like a common street mutt._

"Pansy, take Thomas and Kathryn outside for a walk. I'd like to talk to the mudblood in private."

Nodding obediently, Pansy took the hands of both of her little children and the three of them swept out of the room. When they were gone, Hermione turned her head to slowly face Draco, careful not to reveal her growing dread.

He stood up and walked toward her. Stopping a few inches away from her, he said in a dangerously low voice, "Eat."

"No."

"Say that again?"

"No, Malfoy, I won't eat."

Draco grabbed the back of her neck and pushed her face down to the floor roughly. "Now will you eat?" he whispered into her ear.

Hermione gritted her teeth in pain. Nonetheless, she choked out, "No."

"Very well," he said, releasing his hold on her. "I look forward to seeing you tomorrow night then."

He snapped his fingers and immediately a tiny house-elf rushed into the room. "Clean up," he said simply to it. Then, without another look at Hermione, he left the room.

Hermione watched numbly as the house-elf bustled around, picking up plates and cups. It was careful to avoid looking at her, as if it were too good for her. "...the lowest step on the priority ladder, you will obey orders from everyone else.." she whispered to herself out loud, recalling Draco's earlier words.

_What have I been reduced to? Am I so worthless that even a house-elf is superior to me?_

Standing up, Hermione slowly walked back to her room. She laid down on the hard bed, and tried to sleep. After much tossing and turning, she slipped into unconciousness. Even in her dreams, however, she could not find release from the thoughts that plagued her...

_"Stop!" begged Hermione, her cheeks streaked with tears and her eyes closed in pain. She once again tried to push him away, but he fiercely shoved into her again._

_"Shut up, mudblood, you know you like it," the man snarled. His tangled hair fell over his eyes and for a moment, Hermione felt as if it was a wild animal, rather than a man, that was making her body feel as if it were splitting in two._

_She sobbed wildly as he continued to pump, each time rougher and more forced. The pain that had overtaken her body was unbelievable; everywhere from shoulder down ached like nothing else and she felt blood drip down her thighs. Not even a shred of pleasure existed anywhere in her, nothing but agony and the overwhelming feeling of disgust._

_His hands roughly grabbed her upper arms, causing the sensitive skin there to bruise immediately. She cried out in pain, and he slapped her to silence her. His hand left a red, palm-shaped mark on her cheek that burned as she tried to imagine she was somewhere else, with someone else, anything to escape the toture._

_Never would she forget the man who had taken away her virginity in such a way...never would a day pass by in which she didn't remember._

Hermione's eyes flew open, her abdomen aching as if everything were happening again. She rolled over on the bed, burying her face into her pillow and trying to forget. That was two and a half years ago, and still, the memory haunted her.

At last, she drifted off into a sleep that was, for once, undisturbed by past horrors. As her body relaxed its tossing and turning, the presence of someone else in the room went by unnoticed.

Draco stood in the doorway, watching the new mudblood thrash around on her bed. He heard her cry out in a tortured voice, "Stop!" Wondering what it was that was disturbing her dreams, he continued to observe her quietly. Finally, her violent movements ceased, and her body became limp. Raising an eyebrow, Draco silently turned around and ascended the stairs.

---------

Hermione woke up early the next morning. She lay still for a few moments, not wanting to open her eyes, but at last forced herself up and off the bed. Yawning, she trudged over to the mirror.

She frowned as she looked into it. "I've forgotten what it's like to wake up and like my reflection," she grumbled as she tugged at a strand of tangled hair in annoyance.

"You're the new servant girl now are you?" came a warm, motherly voice. Hermione looked up in surprise in time to see tiny ripples forming on the smooth glass surface of the mirror. A split second later, a face appeared.

"Er...yeah..." replied Hermione, somewhat taken aback.

The mirror chuckled. "I suspect you must be getting that a lot, eh?"

Hermione nodded in response.

"They like to ask silly questions like that," said the mirror, rolling its eyes. "Each of the new servants have to go through the process. You're different from them, though. I'm quite sure of it. Not to mention the fact that Draco seems to have taken a particular liking to you."

With a snort of laughter, Hermione replied, "Malfoy? Liking to ME? Yeah right!"

"You don't believe me? Well then, you're certainly a stubborn one. I suppose you'll just have to find out for yourself," answered the mirror with a wink. "Draco's like that too. Ever since his father died and he was left on his own -" it let out what sounded like a sigh of pity "- he's learned to shut down his feelings to other people and stop believing in what they tell him. Even his poor wife can't get close to him. Ah well...enough of my thoughts. A ponytail would be your best bet." With that said, the face on the surface of the mirror smiled kindly at Hermione, then faded away.

"That was certainly different from anything I've experienced before," mumbled Hermione to herself as she took the mirror's advice and tied her unruly hair into a messy ponytail. She looked hopefully at her reflection, but the new hairstyle had not done much to improve her image. "So much for that idea..."

The mirror's words completely left Hermione's mind as she climbed up the stairs and entered the entrance hall. No one was up yet. "I guess I have the house to myself," she remarked as she tiptoed over to the stairs. "Lets see what a Malfoy's house holds..."

An hour later, Hermione had explored the entire first and second floor. Everyone was still sleeping, and she was starting to get bored. She had found nothing of great interest except for a giant room full of clocks on the second floor.

_I wonder what's on the third floor..._ she thought as she approached the stairs leading up to it. She placed a foot on the first step, then stopped. "You can't," she scolded herself. "Malfoy told you not to. He's your superior now, you have to obey what he says."

However, all of her years as Harry Potter's best friend had not led to nothing. Her curiousity pushed everything else out, and she began to ascend the richly carpeted stairs. When she reached the top, she looked around apprehensively. Nothing marked this level of the house as different from the others, so she decided it was safe to continue.

To her left and right extended long hallways. Oddly enough, there was not a single door in sight. The walls of both of them were, however, smothered in eloquent tapestries that were obviously ancient and worth fortunes. Hermione began to wander down the passageway to her right, examining a tapestry of two fire-breathing dragons in awe. As she did, something caught her eye - a little knob of wood that didn't look as if it belonged there. With her interest alerted, she began to reach out and push it.

Suddenly, someone from behind Hermione grabbed her extended wrist and twisted it behind her back in one movement. Before she could spin around to face her attacker, she was shoved roughly up against the wall. She let out a cry of surprise mixed with pain when her cheek slammed against it with a dull _thud_.

"What are you doing here?" growled a low voice.


	3. Up To Something

"Answer me!" yelled the voice from behind her, turning her around to face him but continuing to pin her against the wall.

Unable to say anything, Hermione stood there and simply shook in fright. Draco stood before her, glaring at her with anger-filled eyes. She had no idea what he was going to her - right now, death looked like the most likely possibility. At last, she managed to squeak out, "I'm...I'm so sorry."

"What did I tell you yesterday, Granger?"

"I didn't think..."

"Obviously not. I TOLD you not to come up here. WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING UP HERE THEN?" His face had become even paler than usual, and he had a crazed look in his eyes.

"I didn't do any harm to anything up here," she answered, a hint of defiance in her voice. Immediately, she regretted the tone she'd used.

"But you disobeyed me." He threw her down on the floor with disgust. She hit the ground forcefully, and as she did, she felt a jolt of pain shoot up her spine. Without thinking, she let out a cry of pain. He ignored her distress, and instead said, "Get the fuck out of my sight right now."

Hermione shakingly got to her feet and started to limp away, but he shoved her onto the ground again. Kneeling down, Draco looked directly into her face. Her cheeks were scratched from him slamming her against the wall, and she looked terrified. "You're a stubborn mudblood, Granger. There is no place in this house for slaves like you."

She gasped, immediately thinking he was going to send her away. As much as she hated the abuse, she needed the job more than anything.

"No, I'm not giving you back to the MEA," he added as if reading her thoughts. "I'm going to have fun breaking you in. It'll be a bit of a sport for me. Lets see how you turn out in one month." He gave her a cold smile, then stood up and kicked her in the side. "Get up and leave."

Although Hermione's entire body was aching from being thrown around, she nevertheless struggled to her feet and staggered back down the stairs without looking back at him. She fought the urge to let the tears spring to her eyes as she entered her room and collapsed on the bed.

The pain was overwhelming, but not as much as the shame. _I can't believe I let him push me around like that, _she thought as she closed her eyes and tried to forget what had just happened. Physical pain she could stand, but not mental. Coming into this house, her dignity was all she had left, and now it looked like that would be stripped of her too. _No,_ she thought firmly, _I won't let him. I can fight him._

With that thought planted in her mind, she got up and limped over to the basin of water that sat at the foot of her bed. Leaning against the wall, she began to wash away the pain.

---------

A few hours later, Hermione woke up to the sound of Pansy's shrill voice coming from upstairs.

"Mudblood, come upstairs," came the order.

Cringing, Hermione gingerly got up and left her room. As she stepped onto the main floor, she saw Pansy standing near the stairs.

"Do come over here," Pansy called.

Hermione obliged.

"Draco has required that you wear these," Pansy said once Hermione was standing in front of her. She held up a medium-sized cardboard box.

Raising an eyebrow, Hermione asked, "What's in that?"

Pansy gave her a look of contempt and replied, "_I _don't know. You're Draco's mudblood, not mine." Without another word to Hermione, she turned around and climbed up the stairs.

"So much for her having changed," muttered Hermione under her breath. She listened carefully and when Pansy's footsteps could no longer be heard, she hurried back to her room, carrying the parcel with her. Curious as to what was in it, she was on her bed with the box in front of her within seconds.

Hermione carefully untied the white string which had been tied around the box. As she opened the lid, she gasped. Inside lay a beautiful, sky blue robe, neatly folded up. Hermione's hands trembled as she reached into the box and pulled out the magnificent garment of clothing. She couldn't even remember ever touching something so finely made. The fabric was soft and smooth, so much that it slid through her fingers with ease. There were no decorations on it and it obviously wasn't as nice as what the purebloods wore, but it was still far more eloquent than anything Hermione had ever been allowed to go near, much less wear.

Underneath the folded robe was a simple set of undergarments - a black bra and plain black panties. A slight frown appeared on Hermione's face as she realized that these were all she was going to wear underneath her robe.

"Oh well," she said softly to herself. "Just think how lucky you are to get to wear that robe."

Hermione slowly took off her own tattered robe, then put on the undergarments. Taking a deep breath, she slipped the robe on. Hurrying over to the mirror, she took one look at herself and immediately a grin spread over her face.

"But why would Malfoy give me something like this?" she asked herself out loud as she ran her fingers along the robe, smoothing out the barely-there wrinkles in the silky fabric. "I'm just a mudblood...why spend so much money on me?"

Silence answered her, and she sighed. "I hope he's not up to something..."

Just then, she heard the door to her room creak open. Whirling around, she saw Draco standing at the top of the stairs.

"What are you doing here?" she asked coldly.

"This is my house, Granger." As he said these words, he slowly began descending the stone stairs. Once he had stepped off the last step, a glint of something unrecognizable appeared in his grey eyes and he smiled icily. Hermione shivered, and took a step backwards. She saw his gaze travel down the section of her body that wasn't covered by the robe, and once again, got the impression that he was undressing her with his eyes.

"W-what do you want?" she stuttered, her hands instinctively wrapping the robe around her.

"Why, I came here to see how you're getting along with your new garments. Obviously very well," he said with a smirk.

Hermione blushed furiously. _What the hell is he doing?_

"I also came down here," he continued, "to remind you of your appointment upstairs in my room tonight. Be there at 10 PM sharp. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes," she muttered, not thinking about anything but her desire for him to leave her alone.

"Now, now, Granger...that mumbling won't do. Lets try that again. Be there at 10 PM sharp. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, _sir_," growled Hermione through gritted teeth. "I'll be there."

He raised an eyebrow, then said, "I'm glad to see there's some fight in you."

No response to his last words came to her mind, so she simply stared back at him in defiance.

Holding her gaze, Draco crossed his arms and remarked, "You know, you have very lovely eyes. I'd love to see those eyes staring into mine while they're marked with pain."

Hermione clenched her fists. Why was he doing this to her? "What do you mean, 'marked with pain'?" she asked slowly.

"You'll see," he replied simply. "For now, save your physical strength." He moved toward her and briefly touched the bruise he had left on her cheek from the previous day. It had not yet healed, so even his slight touch caused her to wince in pain.

She glared at him and pushed his hand away. "What for?"

"So many questions," he said, shaking his head in an amused way. For once, he didn't seem angered by her hostile actions. Instead, they seemed to please him in a strange way. "They won't be answered for now. I have a meeting to attend to with Pansy now, so enjoy your personal time. We'll be back at dinner. Oh, and don't _wander _while you're here," he added as he turned to leave. "Although, after tonight, I doubt you'd get the urge to anymore." He laughed softly, and then was gone.

A shiver travelled down Hermione's spine because even though Draco was gone, she couldn't entirely shake off his icy presence. Every time she thought of him, a knot of terror grew in her stomach - she didn't know why this was, or how it could be, because she had never been afraid of him back during their school years. _That was before he was superior to you, Hermione_, she chided herself. _Now he is, so stop wishing you could go back in time._

"What does he want with me tonight?" she asked herself out loud, surprised to find that her voice was quivering._ If it's anything like this morning..._

Grimacing at the memory, she sat down on her bed and buried her face in her hands. She let out a weary groan as she tried to suppress the overwhelming anxiety that was building in the pit of her stomach. Thoughts were running wildly back and forth in her mind, but one question rose above them all - what was he going to do to her tonight?

A/N: I'm not sure when the next time I update will be...maybe in a week, maybe in a month. Nevertheless, when I do finally decide to start writing this fic again, I promise I'll try to keep the graphic detail down to a minimum.


	4. Crimson

A/N: First of all, to answer the questions, when it says that this fic has been updated and its moved to the top of the list, it means I just sent in a new chapter and it's waiting in queue at the moment. The chapter doesn't always get posted immediately after I send it in. So when it's been updated, it means you have to keep checking back to see if the new chapter has been posted.

_Hermione swallowed hard, then knocked tentatively on the heavy oak door that stood before her. It swung open the moment her knuckle made contact with it, as if the room had been expecting her to visit._

_She stepped in, afraid of what sight would greet her. To her surprise, it was empty. Although the sparse light eminating from a few flickering candles resting on the windowsill was barely enough to light up the large, circular room, she could pick out no shadow or form. Even though she was relieved that Draco was not there yet, her uneasiness couldn't help but be enhanced by the emptiness of the room._

_"Hello?" she whispered, her voice choked and barely audible._

_"Hello, Granger," said someone from behind her._

_Hermione froze at the sound of Draco's voice. Instead of letting her fear show, however, she made no move to turn around and said in as calm of a voice as she could muster up, "So what are you going to do to me tonight?"_

_"Turn around and face me."_

_She didn't oblige._

_"Turn around right now," he said again, his voice harder and more demanding._

_Her pride could no longer keep her from obeying, and she followed his orders. What she saw was what as far from what she had expected as possible._

_Draco was casually leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his bare chest. The only garment of clothing he wore was a pair of loose pants, and even those looked like they were about to fall off of him any moment. He chuckled when he saw the shock cross over her face. "Take off your clothes, Hermione."_

_Although her body had stopped obeying all commands from her brain, Hermione still managed to say, "I refuse to."_

_"That's not the attitude I like to see in my house," he said in a calm voice. "We can either have you do it, or I can do it for you."_

_Hermione's cheeks burned, but she replied, "Or you could just let me go."_

_He laughed coldly. "Come here, Granger."_

_She stood her ground._

_Instead of repeating his order like he had done earlier, Draco made the move toward her this time. In one stride, he was standing before her, holding her robe._

_Hermione shrieked and wrapped her arms around herself. She had no idea how he'd managed to remove her outerwear so quickly, but she would do anything to prevent him from exposing her any more._

_While she was wrapped up in her surprise, she didn't feel his arm snake around her and his fingers unclasp her bra. Within another few seconds, her undergarments also lay on the ground. The moment she felt the last few scraps of clothing on her fall away, Hermione let out a cry of surprise._

_Draco laughed again. "Save your cries for later," he sneered. "You'll be needing them." As he said the words, she felt his hands grasp her hips tightly and pull them toward him. She cried out again and struggled against him, but his hold on her was like steel. He roughly pressed his lips against hers, catching them in a brutal kiss, and she felt tears beginning to fall out of the corners of her eyes._

_He pulled away momentarily to trace a path down her back. She opened her mouth to make an attempt at words, but before a sound could escape her, she saw Draco's form begin to twist and writhe. His skin turned a bright acid green and his eyes narrowed to red slits on a flat face. With one final twist, a giant snake loomed above her where Draco had just stood moments ago._

_Hermione screamed in terror as she watched the snake rear up and lash out its crimson tongue. The sound resonated within the room, blowing out the flames of the candles and leaving her in utter darkness. All she could see were those two red slits, gleaming in the pitch black before her..._

Hermione woke up to the sound of a little girl crying. At first, the sound was mixed in with her screams, and she could barely pick it out. Eventually, her own cries and the image of the snake faded away to be replaced by the pitiful weeping.

Her eyes flew open. Sitting up quickly, she looked around and her eyes quickly came to rest on Kathryn, Draco's daughter. Taken aback and still caught in the remants of her nightmare, Hermione simply sat there and stared at the little girl.

As if she seemed to notice Hermione had woken up, Kathryn's mewing ceased and she looked up at Hermione with wide, watery eyes. She seemed afraid of Hermione, and appeared to be looking for an escape route.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione finally managed to stammer out, not wanting the girl to leave for some strange reason.

"N-nothing," squeaked Kathryn, looking even more terrified now that Hermione had spoken up.

"Don't be afraid of me," Hermione said softly, trying to comfort the girl. "There's nothing to be scared of. Was I screaming?"

Kathryn nodded fearfully.

"I was just having a nightmare," replied Hermione, carefully choosing her words. She hesitated, then said, "There was a big snake in it."

""Snakes are scary," whispered Kathryn, looking somewhat relieved. "I have nightmares about them too. Mum always comes and sings me a lullaby when that happens."

"I don't have a mum to sing me lullabies," said Hermione wistfully. "You're lucky you have one."

Kathryn's eyes lit up with curiosity and she edged forward, her earlier fear seeming to have been forgotten. "What happened to yours?"

"She..." Hermione bit her lip. "She passed away."

"You mean...she died?" gasped Kathryn.

"She's in a better place," Hermione answered with a sad smile. "I miss her, but I'm sure she's happy where she is right now."

"I'm sorry," said the little girl in a quavering voice.

Hermione laughed and responded, "It's okay. Would you like to sit on my bed?"

Kathryn nodded bravely, and clambored onto the mattress beside Hermione. "Why are you here? Are you another one of Daddy's business ladies?"

"Yes...I suppose you could call me that. I'm here to take care of things and help your father with...problems."

"Oh." Kathryn looked awed that she was talking to someone who in turn talked to her dad. "I wish I could help Daddy with problems too."

"I don't think you would want my job," said Hermione, not wanting to imagine for one moment the innocent little girl sitting beside her in her position. She quickly switched the topic. "Why are you down here?"

Instead of avoiding the question like she had earlier, Kathryn replied, "Tommy dared me to. He said that I would be eaten alive by you and I said I wouldn't, so I came down here to prove it."

"Well I'm definitely not going to eat you alive," replied Hermione, somewhat amused. "So you can tell your brother that you win."

At that moment, the sound of Pansy's voice drifted down to them from upstairs. "Tommy, Kathryn, do come up here for one moment."

Kathryn looked at Hermione then said, "I have to go. Whats your name?"

"My name is Hermione."

"Her...myne?"

"Yes, that's it," said Hermione with a laugh. "You can call me Hermyne."

"Okay," said Kathryn cheerfully, jumping off the bed. "Bye-bye Hermyne."

"Good-bye Kathryn," Hermione replied quietly as she watched the little girl bound up the stairs happily. The moment the door shut behind Kathryn, she felt the gloom of the room settle down upon her again.

_It's a good thing she came when she did_, Hermione realized, _or I would never have been able to shake that dream off. Still...I can only pray that it doesn't foreshadow anything that will happen tonight..._

The image of the snake's eyes glaring down at her burned behind her eyelids once again, and it took her more than a few minutes to collect herself before it would fade away.

---------

Later that night, Hermione stood before a door identical to the one in her dream. Instead of bothering to knock, she shoved it open and stepped into the room, expecting the worst.

A shiver travelled down her spine when she realized the setting of the room was the exact replica of the one in her dream. It was like she was experiencing it all over again, only this time, it was reality. The fine hairs on the back of her neck prickled as the creepy, undescribable feeling of deja vu began to grow in her gut.

"It's nice to see you're punctual," said a voice softly from behind her.

Hermione spun around to see Draco standing behind her, his white-blonde hair gleaming in the faint light. Despite the smile resting on his face, she could pick out no emotions in his features. Unconciously, she backed away as he quietly shut the door behind him and took a step toward her.

"Now now, don't be afraid," he said softly. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Despite her growing fear, she asked out loud, "Why do you want me up here?"

Instead of answering her question, Draco began to stroll casually around the room. His eyes lingered on the candles he passed by, giving off the impression that he was entranced by their dancing flames. He at last stopped by a crimson candle, the exact colour of the snake's eyes, carved into the shape of a rose. Hot wax dripped down the sides of it, and Hermione was reminded instantly of blood. She shuddered and cast her eyes downward toward the floor.

"My first intention was to punish you like I have done so toward all my disobedient slaves in the past," Draco said at last, his voice sounding distant. "But," he added as he turned around to look at Hermione, "I've changed my mind. We're going to do something a little different tonight. We're going to...how would you say it? Ah yes...we're going to catch up on old times."


	5. No Amount of Pressure

Hermione blinked, unsure as to whether or not she had heard right. When she saw that Draco was going to make no move toward her for the moment, she let her muscles relax a little bit.

"What...what do you mean, catch up on old times?" she asked, confused.

"Exactly what I said," Draco replied. "I haven't seen you since our days at Hogwarts and I think some reminiscing is in order." He said these words so calmly and matter-of-factly that Hermione had a hard time believing the truth behind them at first. However, she soon realized that he was, despite her distrust, serious about what he was saying.

"Exactly why would you want to do that?" she asked, relief coursing through her. Now that she was certain that he wasn't going to hurt her or, even worse, rape her, she once again had the courage to speak her thoughts.

He sighed and answered, "I do believe I told you not to question my intentions. Now you can either sit down and take my generosity courteously or continue to stand there and impudently argue with me."

Hermione bit her lip because she knew he spoke the truth. She was perfectly aware that he was being far more kind than he should have been, so she sat down obediently on the four-poster bed which lay hidden by shadows against the west wall. All the while, her eyes remained downcast, partly because of her uneasiness and partly because she was afraid that if she looked up, she would see the red slits of the snake in place of Draco's eyes.

"So, Granger," he murmured.

She heard him start walking again, and soon saw the jet-black tops of his polished shoes stop a few inches away from her.

"Three years is much longer than one would think. Tell me, how has your life been since I last saw you at our graduation?"

Hermione blushed at the cruelty of his question; she was certain that he was only asking her because he knew reliving the past would be painful for her._ I hate him,_ she thought angrily. Out loud, she responded in a mumble, "Good."

"Good? Is that so? Because I was under the impression that you had a rather rough time with your previous masters. But I could be mistaken." He laughed softly.

"It's not my fault I got stuck with bastards every time," Hermione shot back furiously. "But then again, there's not a very high probability that I will ever find an _employer_ who will be in any way dignified and kind."

Draco clucked his tongue. "With that attitude, I'm not surprised that only the lowest of our kind would want you as their _slave_."

"I'm not a slave," Hermione replied, saying the words slowly through gritted teeth. She was seething with anger, and it was taking all of her energy to keep herself in check.

"You are," he replied calmly. "Obviously, you haven't changed very much since I last saw you. You're the same stubborn and proud witch. Perhaps too stubborn and proud to accept the pathetic side of your situation. You're a dirty slave. The lowest step of the social ladder, the most disgusting race in this world."

Without thinking, Hermione stood up and glared at Draco. Her dark brown eyes shot daggers into his light grey ones as she replied, "And is your kind any better than ours? At least muggle-borns have pride. We may be treated like grime on a clean kitchen floor, but we have the dignity to treat everyone equally, whether they be our superiors or inferiors. I can't say the same for you and the rest of the purebloods."

Instead of backing away, Draco stood his ground. He was unfazed by Hermione's sudden outburst; in fact, he had been expecting, maybe even provoking, it. In response, he said, "Pride? Tell me, what have you to be proud about? Do you enjoy the fact that you would be sleeping in a pile of rubbish with a flea-bitten mutt lying next to you if it wasn't for me?"

Her fists clenched at her sides. Furiously, she answered, "I think the mutt would be preferable to you."

Draco chuckled quietly. "Are you suggesting that you would like to sleep with me? My my, aren't we getting a little ahead of ourselves."

Hermione's already-flushed cheeks burned even more with embarrassment. "I would rather sleep with a flobberworm. Of course, the man who I've had the misfortune to be taken into bed with could be compared to one, so it would be nothing new. It's funny how you purebloods consider yourself the highest of society, yet you take pleasure in raping a filthy little mudblood. I see no respect for others that would give you reason to boast about your status."

Raising an eyebrow, Draco quietly answered, "I have no reason to treat you or anyone else of your caliber with respect."

"And do we have reason to treat your kind with such respect?"

At this, Draco was, for the first time that evening, taken aback. No answer came immediately to his mind, so he simply stood there and stared at her for a moment. Finally, the light in his eyes flickered out to be replaced by a cold glare. "That's enough," he said, his voice hard. "Don't argue me, or you'll find yourself wishing you didn't."

Hermione shut her mouth. She now realized what she had done, and quickly sat back down on the bed. Bowing her head, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm her fired-up nerves.

"Look at me," Draco suddenly said, his voice sounding oddly choked. Instead of waiting for her to lift her head up, he crouched down and roughly pulled her head back so that her eyes were once again staring straight into his. "Who did it?"

She gazed back at him, not understanding what he was asking. "Who did what?" she whimpered as he gripped her hair more tightly, causing tears of pain to spring to her eyes.

"Who raped you?"

Hermione was so shocked by his question that she stopped struggling against his death-grip on her hair. "What did you say?" she whispered, her eyes widening.

"You heard me the first time. Tell me."

Fearfully, Hermione shook her head._ I don't know what the hell he's trying to do, but I'm not going to tell him,_ she firmly thought as she tried to avoid the intensity of his icy gaze. _It's not...it's not his position to know. I don't understand why he would care anyway._

"Tell me right now," he hissed, his face now centimetres away from hers. They were so close that if Hermione tried to inhale, their lips would probably make contact. His eyes were flashing dangerously as he threateningly tightened his hold on her locks even more.

"I can't tell you," Hermione said, her voice cracking under the strain of having her head pulled so far back. "I...can't..."

Draco narrowed his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment, the creaking open of a door was heard from downstairs and Pansy's voice drifted up from the main floor, calling for her husband, announced that the rest of the family was home. Surprised, Draco released his grasp and straightened up. Hermione immediately started gasping for breath and rubbing her scalp.

"We will resume our first conversation another time. And you will tell me someday," Draco said quietly before he turned around, left the room, and descended the stairs to greet his wife and children.

Hermione slumped back against the wall as she watched Draco's retreating form. When she could no longer hear his footsteps echoing in the hall, she turned her eyes toward the same candle he had stopped in front of earlier.

_What does he want with me?_ she wondered as she watched the dancing flame flicker and nearly go out as a gentle, barely-there breeze drifted in through the open window. _If he doesn't care, why did he ask?_

"Mudblood, come down here!"

Hermione groaned. She shakily got to her feet, cast one last glance around the room, then trudged downstairs. When she arrived at the foot of the stairs, she was relieved to find that Draco wasn't there. Only Pansy, Tommy, Kathryn, and the butler Bingley stood in the hall.

"Yes?" she said as politely as she could.

"Take the children upstairs and prepare them for bed," said Pansy carelessly as she shrugged off her outer coat and called for a maid to take it. "Their nanny is taking leave this week, so you will be in charge of them."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Why is she leaving?"

"Don't ask questions," Pansy replied irritably. "Just do it." She then turned around and walked up the staircase across from the one Hermione stood by.

Nodding, Hermione gestured for the kids to follow her up the stairs. Silently, she ascended them with Kathryn skipping after her and Tommy trailing behind. The moment she reached the top of the staircase, she heard a thump and a wail from behind her. Whipping around, she saw Tommy lying at the bottom of the stairs, holding his right wrist in his left hand and moaning piteously.

Gasping, Hermione hurried down the stairs. She crouched down by the little boy's side and gingerly took his wrist. To her relief, there was only a small bruise.

"What happened?" she asked worriedly as Kathryn arrived, panting, at her side.

"Nothing," Tommy grumbled, wrenching his arm out of Hermione's grasp. "Don't touch me."

Hermione was taken aback at the harsh words. Recovering, she shrugged and looked at Kathryn helplessly. The little girl stared back at her with wide eyes, then turned to her brother and started asking him if he was okay. With another glare at Hermione, Tommy began dramatically telling Kathryn about how Hermione had cursed him while he wasn't looking and made him fall down the stairs.

As she watched Tommy wave his hands around wildly and Kathryn lean forward in awe, Hermione leaned against the staircase railing and sighed deeply. _This is going to be a very long week..._

A/N: Well, spring break has finally arrived for me so I have some time to write. Hopefully I'll be able to post more chapters in this fic and When Harry Met Jo over the week. By the way, when Draco said "We will resume our first conversation another time," that was a reference to the reminiscing conversation.


	6. Her Own Secret

A/N: I'm really sorry for not updating for so long. I've been really busy with schoolwork, tutoring, and other websites, plus I haven't had the inspiration to write (I have the plot and ideas worked out, but I just can't get my thoughts down through words). Thanks to the kind emails from so many reviewers though, I felt I needed to update again, so here you are. I apologize for any grammar, spelling, or plot errors I might have made, seeing as it's very late and I wrote the last half in a rush. I also apologize for how boring the chapter is. I really want to incorporate the romance people want in, but I just couldn't in this chapter. I promise there will be some next chapter...either that, or you'll discover who Hermione's rapist was. Once again, thank you for all the emails - they mean so much to me :)

The next day, Hermione woke up just in time to quickly shrug on her robe and hurry upstairs for breakfast. When she arrived at the dining room, Draco and Pansy were just seating themselves. The children were not at the table, and after a few moments of confusion, Hermione felt her heart sink as she realized that she was the one who was supposed to bring them down.

"I..." she started to say when Pansy turned to her with a questioning look.

"Where are they?" the other woman asked sharply.

"I forgot," Hermione said quietly. "I'll go get them right now."

Not wanting to hear the response, Hermione turned around and made her way as fast as she could to the children's bedrooms.

Once upstairs, the first room she entered was Kathryn's. _Hey, if Tommy hates me, at least I'll have her there to protect me,_ she thought wryly as she knocked lightly on the door. No one answered, so she pushed it open.

At first, Hermione couldn't find the occupant of the room anywhere. Panic starting rising in her, but then she saw a small form wrapped in blankets, lying on the bed. She smiled in relief, and walked over to the bed.

"Kathryn," she whispered, gently shaking the girl's sleeping form. "Wake up, dear."

A mumble came from the bundle of blankets, then Kathryn's disheveled hair, followed by her sleepy face, appeared. "Isn't it Saturday?" she asked with a yawn.

"Yes, but your mother and father are still expecting you for breakfast," replied Hermione as she bustled around and picked out a blouse and skirt for Kathryn to wear. "Put these on while I go wake your brother up."

Instead of doing what Hermione had said, Kathryn simply sat up and stared at her blankly. "Put them on?" she repeated.

"You do know how to put on your own clothes, right?" Hermione asked jokingly.

"No."

"What!" Hermione exclaimed, turning around to look at the little girl with disbelief.

Kathryn's eyes widened in fear at the outburst and she whimpered, "No one ever taught me."

Hermione restrained a groan of frustration. "I can't BELIEVE this," she muttered under her breath. "Okay Kathryn, today you're going to learn," she announced out loud.

Kathryn pouted. "Do I have to?" she whined.

"Yes," Hermione replied firmly. She grabbed the tiny blouse and kneeled down in front of Kathryn. "Okay, first your shirt. You have to put your arms in the sleeves, one at a time, first. Then, for the buttons, you slip the round part into the hole."

Kathryn gazed at Hermione attentively, then followed her orders. She at first had trouble fastening the buttons, but after a bit of struggling, managed to get her blouse on the right way. She looked down at herself proudly, then exclaimed, "I did it!"

Hermione smiled wearily and congratulated the little girl. "Good job! Are you ready for your skirt now?"

Nodding eagerly, Kathryn reached out for her skirt. Just then, a voice sharply interrupted from behind her, "What are you doing?"

Hermione spun around and saw Pansy standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips, looking furious. "I told you to bring the children downstairs. Why are you playing with her right now?" the other woman continued.

"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered. "I was teaching her how to dress herself."

"That's servant's work," snapped Pansy.

"She wanted to," Hermione argued back. "And she has to learn someday. I might as well teach her right now."

As if to confirm Hermione's statement, Kathryn nodded eagerly. "Mum, look, I put my blouse on all by myself!" she said happily, pointing at the done-up buttons.

Pansy's cold glare noticeably softened, and she said in a more gentle tone, "Is that so? Mummy's little girl is growing up, isn't she?"

Kathryn nodded and then said, "Hermyne is teaching me how to put on my skirt now!"

Too late, Hermione realized that Pansy now knew her name and could figure out her identity. She was right - Kathryn's mother straightened up and her eyes widened with shock. "Hermione? Hermione _Granger_!" she half-shrieked.

Hermione inwardly cursed herself for telling Kathryn her name. "Yes," she muttered.

"_The _Hermione Granger? The goody-goody, bushy-haired mudblood from Hogwarts?"

"That's me," Hermione replied, annoyance creeping into her tone. _What the hell does this have to do with Kathryn getting dressed?_ she thought angrily.

Pansy shook her head, unable to speak through the fit of giggles that had overtaken her. Hermione watched her with a slight frown. She was about to turn back to Kathryn and try to ignore Pansy's presence when the other woman spoke up again.

"My, my, who would have thought you'd be degraded to this?"

Hermione said nothing.

"I suppose Draco knows about this?"

Hermione nodded stonily.

"Oh, no wonder why he's taken such an interest in you. He usually doesn't pay much attention to the mudblood servants. Of course, he's too busy at work to rea-" Pansy cut off there and an odd expression spread across her face. A split second later, she shook her head and snapped, "Get back to work."

Surprised at the sudden change of mood, Hermione nodded and turned back to Kathryn, but not before shooting a curious look at Pansy. The other woman was looking away so Hermione couldn't read her facial expression.

After a few minutes, Hermione timidly asked, "Can you go get Tommy ready?"

A second or two of silence followed Hermione's question. At last, without turning around, Pansy replied in a tense voice, "Fine. Keep in mind, however, that this is your job and I will not be doing this again."

Hermione shrugged and watched Pansy leave the room. The moment the door shut, she turned to Kathryn. "Do you know...?"

The little girl shook her head. "Mum's always like that when she talks about Daddy working," she explained to her caretaker.

"That's interesting," Hermione murmured out loud thoughtfully as she watched Kathryn fasten the buckles on her skirt. "Good job," she added when Kathryn had succeeded.

Drake's daughter beamed at Hermione. "That wasn't as hard as it looked!" she squealed, hopping off the bed. "Thanks for teaching me, Hermyne."

Hermione let out a breath of relief now that her morning's task had been completed, although her mind was still partially on Pansy's odd behaviour moments ago. "You're welcome," she replied with a smile. "Do you want to go down to breakfast now?"

Kathryn nodded eagerly. "Is Daddy going to be proud of me?" she asked, her eyes gleaming.

Hermione paused for a moment, then slowly replied, "Yes he will, dear."

Kathryn grinned. "Let's go!" she urged. She took Hermione's hand and tried to tug her toward the door.

"Okay, okay," Hermione said with a laugh. She allowed Kathryn to drag her to the top of the stairs, where Pansy was already waiting with Tommy at her side. Similar glares appeared on the faces of both mother and son at the arrival of the two latecomers.

"We've been waiting," Pansy pointed out shortly. "Let's go."

Instead of waiting for Hermione and Kathryn to follow, she took Tommy's hand and the two of them descended the stairs quickly. As they disappeared around the curve of the stairs, the little boy's eyes came to rest on his sister's. For a moment, Hermione could nearly see the daggers shooting from his seemingly innocent blue eyes. The next, he and Pansy were gone.

"Is Tommy mad at me?" Kathryn asked, her voice quivering slightly.

"No, not at all," Hermione hurriedly said. "He's just..." She stopped, biting her lip "He's just having a bad day."

"Oh, okay," Kathryn said, although all sparkle in her tone that had been there just minutes ago was now gone. It was in a much more dejected voice that she asked, "Can we go down now?"

Hermione started, then replied, "Of course." She had been so distracted by the strange behaviour exhibited by Draco's wife and son that she'd forgotten they were supposed to be down in the dining room.

When the two of them finally arrived downstairs, breakfast had already begun. Kathryn quickly hurried over to her seat without looking at her parents or brother. Unsure as to what to do, Hermione simply stood in the doorway and fidgeted with a strand of hair that had strayed from her messy ponytail.

Draco looked up and noticed Hermione's discomfort. He gazed at her for a few seconds, looking as if he were contemplating something, then at last said in a hard, emotionless voice, "Sit down."

Hermione was so shocked by the fact that Draco was actually suggesting she take a seat that she followed his command with no objection. As she tried to find a comfortable position on the stiff-backed chair, Hermione happened to glance up. Her eyes were immediately drawn to Draco's, which were still fixed on her. She saw a flicker of some unreadable light appear in his silvery eyes, but before she could even think upon it, it was gone. Draco turned away, and she did so as well. The brief exchange between the two of them went by unnoticed by anyone else at the table, and breakfast continued on in stony silence.


	7. The Beauty In The Breakdown

The moment Draco gave the nod of dismissal, Hermione pushed her chair back and stood up. She mumbled a quick "Thank you" and backed out of the room before anyone could say anything.

Once outside, Hermione let out a breath of relief. The atmosphere in the dining room during breakfast had been unbearably tense: Pansy kept shooting smirks at her and the kids were silent after the morning ordeal. Draco ignored the rest of his family like usual, his excuse this time being important documents for work.

Hermione heard footsteps approaching, and she quickly ducked behind the staircase and hurried down the length of the hallway to her quarters. The footsteps most likely belonged to Bingley, and he wasn't exactly her favourite character._ Although_, she thought to herself, _it's not like I have anyone to judge him against. I don't think there's anyone here besides the family and him._

As she made her way down the narrow stairs, Hermione stopped. Following her last thought, a wave of loneliness had washed over her. Up until this point, it hadn't hit her that she was alone in the Malfoy mansion. Back on the streets, she'd had Jeanne and other friends she could talk to daily. Over here, however, it was just her, Pansy, and the kids and as much as she loved Kathryn, Draco's wife and children weren't exactly the best company she could ask for.

Now that Hermione's mind was on her lack of friendly contact, all worries about Kathryn and Tommy left her. She was overcome by the need to talk to a friend and she clenched the wooden stair rail behind her in an attempt to ease the unbearable ache. Unsurprisingly, her action didn't work; instead, Hermione gasped when a long splinter of wood cut deeply into the palm of her hand, causing tears of pain to spring to her eyes.

As Hermione gently eased the splinter out with a trembling hand, she tried to focus on a memory, any memory, from Hogwarts. It was something she'd gotten accustomed to doing over the years whenever the current situation seemed hopeless. "Think positive things," she whispered to herself through teeth gritted in pain. However, the thought of Hogwarts reminded her immediately of her old friends, Harry and Ron, and the loneliness hit her again.

Hermione brought her lips to the wound in her palm and tried to suck away the surfacing blood as she stumbled down the remainder of the stairs and collapsed on her bed. She pulled away and looked down at the cut, dismayed to find that her palm was quickly being stained crimson. Apparently, the splinter had been driven in deeper than she originally thought.

Groaning, Hermione let her hand rest palm-up on the dusty drawer by the head of her bed. Her only option was to wait for the bleeding to stop. As she watched the streaks of red trickling down her palm, Harry and Ron's faces suddenly burst so clearly into her mind it was as if she had just seen the two of them yesterday.

Hermione froze and for a moment, her throat felt as though it had closed over. Then, she regained her breath, but not before the painful numbness of long-experienced pain had settled over her. Her heart broke as she recalled the night she had last contacted her two friends.

It was the first day of September and last day of the war. The jets of red and green light had thinned out - most of the people who once voiced the incantations to create the spells lay dead on the battlefield - and it looked like the war was finally going to end with the Ministry of Magic as the favoured side. Hermione speaking to Harry and Ron by means of a magical communication mirror and asking them how the situation looked where they were, and Harry had just replied that it was clear. Just as she was beginning to sit back in relief, she heard Ron shout something about how a group of Death Eaters had just arrived at their door. Before Hermione could even ask what was going on, Harry had thrown the mirror down on the ground to go help Ron. The sound of shattering glass came from their side and the surface of the mirror went black. It was the last time Hermione ever saw or heard from either of her friends.

Of course, Harry had died that very night. It was written in the stars that he could not exist while Voldemort lived and vice versa. What had happened to Ron was unknown to Hermione, but her best guess was that he had died fighting alongside Harry. _Together until the end,_ Hermione thought as guilt took over her. _I should have been there to help them. I should have died that night with them._

The mere thought of being with Harry and Ron made Hermione bury her face in her pillow to muffle the sound of the sobs that had arisen. _If they could see me now, they would tell me to be strong. But what's the point when there's nothing to be strong for?_

Slowly, Hermione forced herself to stop crying - _It's pointless, just like life,_ she thought dully - and lift her head off the pillow. She shakily inhaled a deep breath and wiped away the wetness on her cheeks with the hand that had just been resting on the bedside drawer a few minutes ago. She was so distracted by her thoughts that the pain of the salt in her tears rubbing into her cut was barely noticeable.

"If I died that night," she said out loud to the emptiness of her room, "I would've saved myself."

---------

A week later, Hermione sat in the backyard garden of the mansion, letting the afternoon sunshine relax her. So far, the day had been extremely stressing - both Kathryn and Tommy had needed to be dressed up for a wedding the family was attending - and Hermione had been left with the task. After a lot of screaming, kicking, and slapping, she'd finally gotten the two of them into their dress robes.

After the Malfoys left, Hermione had gone wandering around the house once again. It had become something of a daily ritual for her to explore the hidden surprises that could be found within the Malfoy estate. Everyday she discovered something new, and it kept her mind off of the times when Draco came home after a stressful day and felt the need to relieve his own worries by inflicting both magical and physical pain on Hermione.

Although Hermione had been tempted to go see what Draco so wanted to keep her from seeing on the third floor many times, she knew that even though he meant nothing more than scum to her, she should respect his privacy. Therefore, she decided to walked the opposite way that morning and discovered to her delight that behind the doors with the serpent-shaped handles lay a beautiful, blooming garden.

For the first time that day, Hermione allowed a genuine smile to spread across her face. She never would have expected such a formidable house to hold such beauty behind it. This spread of land was breathtaking. Hermione couldn't even remember seeing anything as natural and pure as the wild foliage that grew here. A carpet of lush, green grass covered the ground and willow trees grew along the shore of a small pond in the center of the garden, their graceful branches gently grazing the clear surface of the water. Wild flowers of every colour arose from between the blades of grass, spreading their petals to the clear, blue sky. A narrow dirt trail with pebbles placed along both sides of it wound its way through the garden, making the garden look as if it were a picture in a book brought to life.

Now, Hermione stood up and began to resume her exploring of the garden. It was like a miniature forest; a surprise seemed to hide around every tree. Earlier, she had discovered a small rabbit and its two children behind a boulder. She'd smiled when she saw the creatures; they looked so innocent that it was hard not to.

As Hermione made her way back onto the dirt trail, a butterfly flitted across her path. She stopped to watch it flutter on by to a wild blackberry bush. There, it landed. Captivated by the beautiful pattern of red and yellow circles on the butterfly's wings, Hermione crept silently over to the bush and tentatively reached a hand out to the insect. Immediately, it flew away.

Shrugging, Hermione pulled back and continued on her way. As she strolled down the path, another thing caught her eye - a beautiful flower. Its petals were the size of Hermione's fist, and each was a brilliant purple colour. Unable to restrain herself, Hermione plucked the flower from the ground. After a second's worth of hesitation, she tucked the flower gingerly behind her ear. Now, with the beautiful robe Draco had given her and the flower in her hair, Hermione felt like a real princess.

A sense of happiness settled in her heart. Being outside among the nature had an indescribable effect on her. It was as if every miserable memory stored in her mind had been erased, leaving nothing but pure joy. Sighing happily, Hermione spread her arms out and twirled around. "If only everything in this world could be so lovely," she murmured to herself.

Hermione spent the remainder of the afternoon in the garden just marveling at the beauty of it. At last, as the sun began to set and the shadows grew longer, she decided she should go back inside - Kathryn and Tommy might need attending to after their day out. Reluctantly, she got up from her seat under a willow tree and brushed the leaves off her bottom.

"I'll be back tomorrow," she whispered to no one in particular before returning to the mansion.


End file.
